Yankees' Mariano Rivera is modest after breaking all-time saves mark

NEW YORK — In Puerto Caimito, where the Pacific Ocean washes up on the western coast of Panama, it is understood among all the fishermen that the best time to catch sardines is in the morning. Which is why Mariano Rivera Sr., the captain of his own fishing boat, made it his mission years ago to teach his son patience, restraint and discipline.

Be up at 2 a.m., ready for work at 3 a.m., back at home by 1 p.m., in bed by 8 p.m; be obedient, always listen, never make him repeat an order more than once — follow the rules, Mariano Sr. taught his son — and good things might happen.

“Disciplina,” he said today in his native Spanish, over and over again, shortly after watching his son achieve greatness.

He glided past Trevor Hoffman for the all-time lead in saves, and Hoffman, in a statement congratulating the 41-year-old, acknowledged that Rivera “is still going strong.” That patience, discipline and restraint pushed Rivera past a record that he will now spend the rest of his career making even more unattainable.

“I’d be shocked if it happens in our lifetime,” said Yankees manager Joe Girardi.

Rivera celebrated with his typical modesty, shaking hands with catcher Russell Martin, exchanging hugs with teammates, smiling at the fans who longed to honor a franchise treasure. He was prepared to leave it at that, but longtime teammate Jorge Posada wasn’t having it.

Perhaps Posada, too, should be credited with a save, pushing Rivera back toward the pitcher’s mound, stepping back toward the foul line with Alex Rodriguez, and refusing to budge until Rivera stood there to take his bows, all alone.

“We did it because of the fans, we wanted the fans to obviously acknowledge it,” Posada said. “He was like ‘That’s it.’ He wanted to come out, he felt uncomfortable.”

In the Yankees' clubhouse — as on the deck of his father’s fishing boat — the individual is never greater than the team. It had always been this way, until with one spontaneous burst today the fans changed the rules on him. They cheered aloud when Nick Swisher ended the eighth inning by bouncing into a double play. At that point, they weren’t interested in runs. They wanted a save opportunity.

“When I saw that I said, ‘These fans are crazy,’” said Rivera, who later shared how strange it felt to admit that a small part of him took delight in the double play.

It was at that moment, after 16 years of selflessness, that the game ceased being about the team. With his consent or not, it became all about Rivera and a celebration of his humility. The fans sensed it immediately, their cheers mixing with the familiar strains of “Enter Sandman,” when he began his jog before the ninth.

Soon, the Twins’ Chris Parmelee was looking for a new bat, after breaking it on a two-strike pitch. And a moment later, he was looking at a called strike three, a bystander to history.

Posada and Rodriguez cleared the infield, and for the first time in all his years in baseball, it belonged only to Rivera. He stood there by himself, where only he could absorb all the love and adulation that spilled over from the stands, a moment he called “priceless.”

As he waved his hat at the crowd, turning his body to salute them in all directions, he barely kept himself from crying.

“Almost,” he said in a quiet moment later. “I almost did.”

But not quite, because after all, Rivera isn’t that far removed from his small village in Panama. And even though he’s earned millions of dollars with his gift, even though his wealth allowed him to relieve his father of his captaincy years ago, there are still rules to follow.

In a moment of triumph that belonged to him alone, Rivera congratulated a reporter on the recent birth of his first child, asked only that the man who breaks his record one day treat the game with honor, and bubbled at the thought of a celebration. Not his own, but one scheduled for after the game, to honor longtime head athletic trainer Gene Monahan, who is retiring after the season.

Patience, restraint, disciplina — the rules had been restored — and with his father standing only a few feet away now, Mariano Rivera breathed a sigh of relief.

The build up to his milestone made him uneasy. But now it was over, and for the first time in days, the son of a sardine fisherman could go home to rest with his family, to prepare himself for his next day on the job.